Chapter 18: The Bargain
The bass from the club below thrummed through the floor, a relentless heartbeat that vibrated in Cole’s bones. Up here, in the neon-soaked privacy of the booth, the world had narrowed to the press of two bodies, the scent of expensive perfume, and the terrifying glint in Lumina’s eyes.
“No reason you can't enjoy yourself,” she purred again, her breath hot against his ear. Her hand slid from his chest down to his belt buckle. Noctua, silent and intense, pressed closer from the other side, her cybernetic eye whirring softly as it scanned him, mapping his bio-signatures.
Noctua’s cybernetic eye emitted a soft, data-rich glow, its lens adjusting minutely as it continued to analyze the rapid flutter of his pulse beneath his skin. Lumina’s fingers, deft and insistent, finally popped the clasp of his belt buckle open with a sharp click that was swallowed by the thumping music. Cole’s breath hitched, a trapped sound in his throat, as the reality of their intent solidified around him.
He thought of Maya’s warning about being used, her voice a distant echo in the chaos of his mind. But the twins’ warmth seeped into him, a dual pressure that felt both suffocating and electrifying. His own resistance, a thin wire stretched taut for days, began to fray.
“Just relax, Capacitor,” Lumina murmured, her lips brushing his jawline. “We’ll make it good for you, I promise.” Her words were a silken trap, and he felt the last of his willpower dissolve under their combined attention.
A memory flashed—Lisa’s energy signature blazing across a satellite map, a problem he was too exhausted to fix. This, right here, felt like a different kind of solution, a shameful and immediate one. His shoulders slumped, the fight draining from his body in a single, weary exhalation.
“Okay,” he whispered, the word barely audible. “Okay, just… make it count.” He let his head fall back against the plush booth, surrendering to the inevitable. His hands, which had been clenched at his sides, went limp.
Lumina’s smile was a sharp, victorious thing in the flickering neon light. She didn’t waste a second, her fingers working quickly to unbutton his jeans and yank them down his hips along with his boxers. The cool air of the booth hit his exposed skin, a brief shock before the heat of their bodies swallowed it.
“See? Isn’t this better?” she cooed, her hand wrapping around his half-hard cock, giving it a few rough, practiced strokes. Cole gasped, a jolt of unwanted pleasure shooting through him as his body betrayed his mind, stiffening fully in her grip.
Noctua moved with a silent, predatory grace, her cybernetic eye still glowing as she knelt before him. She didn’t speak, just leaned forward and took the head of his cock into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip with expert precision. The wet, hot suction made his hips buck involuntarily, a low groan escaping his lips.
“Fuck, look at him,” Lumina laughed, her voice a husky whisper against his neck as she continued to stroke him in time with her sister’s rhythm. “He’s already so fucking hard for us.” Her other hand slid under his shirt, nails scraping lightly over his stomach, making his muscles twitch.
Cole’s head spun, the thumping bass and the dual sensations overwhelming his senses. He tried to cling to a thought—Maya’s worried face, Lisa’s name—but it all dissolved into a haze of primal need. This was what he was for, wasn’t it? A fucking battery.
“Want to feel you come down my throat,” Noctua mumbled, pulling off for a second, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his shaft. Her voice was a low, mechanical hum, devoid of warmth but full of intent. She dove back down, taking him deeper, her throat working around him.
Lumina shifted, releasing his cock to shove her own leather pants down her thighs. “My turn,” she breathed, climbing onto the booth seat and straddling his lap, guiding him toward her entrance. She was already wet, her heat a palpable force against his tip. “Give it to me, Capacitor.”
She sank down onto him in one smooth, brutal motion, sheathing him completely inside her with a guttural cry. Cole cried out, his hands flying to her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as she began to ride him with a fierce, grinding rhythm. Each thrust was a punishment and a reward, a reminder of his own degrading utility.
“That’s it, fill me up,” Lumina moaned, her head thrown back, breasts bouncing with the force of her movements. Her inner muscles clenched around him, milking him, demanding his release. Noctua watched, her hand moving between her own legs, her fingers working in a frantic blur.
Cole felt the familiar pressure building in his core, the telltale warmth that signaled his power awakening, ready to spill out. He was close, so close, and the twins knew it. “Come on, baby, give us that charge,” Lumina urged, her pace becoming frantic, slamming down on him over and over.
The orgasm ripped through him like a lightning strike, a raw, blinding surge of energy that left him shuddering and empty. He poured into her, his semen carrying that strange, healing current, and he felt Lumina convulse around him, her own climax triggering a feedback loop that made the neon lights in the booth flicker and buzz.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the distant music. Then Lumina slid off him, a satisfied smirk on her face as she touched her skin, now glowing faintly. “Damn, that’s the stuff,” she sighed, stretching like a cat.
Noctua stood, her cybernetics humming with a thirst for power, a cool, efficient light in her eyes. Cole slumped against the booth, ready for more. He knew how his powers worked, and had built up a resistance; if he was a battery, then he would be the best battery he could be. The thought was a bleak mantra, a justification for the emptiness spreading through his chest as Lumina slid off him, her skin shimmering with stolen vitality.
Noctua was already moving, her silence more demanding than any words. She pushed him back against the cool leather, her movements efficient and devoid of warmth. "My turn," she stated, the words a flat, cybernetically-enhanced hum that brooked no argument.
Her leather-clad leg swung over his hips, the material creaking. Where Lumina had been all fiery demand, Noctua was a study in cold precision. She positioned herself above him, her glowing eye fixed on his, and lowered herself onto his still-sensitive cock without a sound.
The fit was tight, almost painfully so, and he could feel the subtle vibration of her internal augmentations against his skin. She began to move, a slow, deep, and punishing rhythm that was all business. Each downward stroke was calculated to milk him, to extract every last drop of the charge she craved.
"Faster," Lumina urged from the sidelines, her voice husky as she watched, her hand idly stroking her own glowing skin. "Don't be gentle with it." Noctua’s pace intensified, her hips pistoning against his with a mechanical relentlessness that stole his breath.
Cole gasped, his head knocking back against the booth. He was hard again, his body responding to the brutal friction despite the shame curdling in his gut. His fingers gripped her thighs, feeling the strange mix of soft skin and hardened cybernetic plating beneath.
"Look at him, he's gonna blow already," Lumina laughed, a sharp, cruel sound. "Such a good little power bank." The humiliation burned, but it was somehow distant, secondary to the raw physicality coiling in his core.
Noctua’s breathing hitched, the first sign of her own climax. Her internal muscles clenched around him in a rapid, fluttering pattern, a bio-mechanical trigger designed for maximum extraction. "Now," she commanded, her voice cracking with static.
The second release was a different animal, less a lightning strike and more a deep, seismic shudder that left him feeling hollowed out. He spilled into her, a weaker but still potent flow, and watched as the light in her cybernetic eye brightened to a piercing, hungry blue.
She held him inside her for a long moment, squeezing every last joule from him before dismounting with the same clinical detachment. Cole slumped, boneless and spent, a faint tremor running through his limbs. The booth lights stabilized, now fed by twin sources.
Lumina leaned over, tracing a finger through the mess on his stomach. "See? No torture required." She brought her finger to her mouth, tasting him with a thoughtful look. "Just efficiency."
Noctua stood, adjusting her clothing, her systems humming at a satisfied, higher frequency. "Charge is optimal. We're ready." They looked at each other, then down at him, not with gratitude, but with the appraisal of a tool that had served its purpose.
He slumped deeper into the booth’s leather, the cold stickiness on his skin a stark contrast to the club’s oppressive heat. His thoughts spiraled into a numb void, the twins’ departing silhouettes burned into his vision. Then the booth’s curtain rustled, and they were back, their figures cutting through the neon haze like predators returning to a fresh kill.
“Tapped out already?” Lumina’s voice was a razor’s edge of mockery as she slid onto the seat beside him, her hand immediately palming the limp weight between his legs. “We’re just getting started, Capacitor.” Noctua stood over him, her cybernetic eye whirring as it analyzed his depleted state, a faint, dissatisfied click echoing from her jaw.
Cole’s protest died in his throat, a weak, strangled sound. “I can’t… I’m empty.” His body felt like a wrung-out rag, but Lumina’s fingers were already working him with a brutal, knowing pressure. “Bullshit,” she hissed, her breath hot against his ear. “That pretty little healing juice of yours refills faster than you think. We read the files.”
Noctua’s cold, augmented fingers joined her sister’s, tracing the faint tremors in his thighs. “Bio-signs indicate rapid cellular regeneration. The reservoir is replenishing.” Her clinical tone made it worse, reducing him to a set of data points. He tried to push their hands away, but his arms felt leaden, his will shattered by the memory of Lisa’s fading signal and his own pathetic utility.
Lumina leaned in, her lips brushing his with a cruel promise. “You’re gonna come for us again, and it’s gonna be a fucking geyser.” She shifted, swinging a leg over his hips to straddle him fully, her bare cunt already slick and hot against his stomach. The contact sent a jolt through his system, his body stirring back to life under her relentless manipulation.
“Watch this, Noct,” Lumina grunted, positioning herself above his now half-hard cock. She didn’t guide him in; she slammed down, taking him in one vicious, gut-punching thrust that forced a ragged cry from his lungs. Her inner muscles clenched around him, a wet, demanding vise that began to milk him instantly. “Yeah, that’s it, you fucking battery. Give it up.”
Cole’s head spun, the world narrowing to the brutal rhythm of her hips and the searing heat enveloping him. Noctua moved closer, her hand tangling in his hair, yanking his head back to force eye contact. “Observe the discharge,” she commanded her sister, her glowing eye fixed on his. “Maximum yield requires peak stimulus.” Her other hand found his nipple, pinching and twisting until he gasped, the pain sharp and clarifying.
Lumina rode him with a frenzied, grinding intensity, her moans dripping with fake ecstasy. “You love this, don’t you? Being our little power plant.” Each word was a hammer blow to his crumbling psyche. He could feel the familiar warmth gathering in his balls, the cursed energy coiling tight, ready to spill. His hips bucked involuntarily, meeting her thrusts, a shuddering groan escaping as pleasure and self-loathing twisted into one inseparable knot.
“I’m… I’m gonna…” he choked out, his vision blurring at the edges. “Not yet,” Noctua snapped, her voice cutting through the haze. She released his hair, her augmented fingers tracing the base of his cock, applying a precise, painful pressure that made him whimper. “We synchronize the peak.” Lumina’s pace became erratic, her own climax approaching, her cries turning genuine and raw.
“Now, Cole! Fucking now!” Lumina screamed, her body convulsing around him. The dam broke. His orgasm ripped through him, a scalding torrent that seemed to drain the very marrow from his bones. He poured into her, his semen pumping in thick, helpless spurts, and he felt the energy transfer like a live wire, making the booth’s lights flicker and hum.
Lumina collapsed against him, panting, her skin shimmering with renewed vigor. Noctua’s eye blazed with a satisfied, hungry light. She didn’t wait for her sister to move, simply pushing Lumina aside with a grunt and mounting him while he was still spurting the last drops. “Secondary harvest,” she stated, her cold, mechanical cunt sheathing him in a fresh wave of sensation that was more violation than pleasure.
He was too spent to even moan, his body used, his spirit broken. The twins had returned for more, and they had taken it, leaving him hollowed out and utterly alone in the pounding dark.
A new shadow fell across him, blotting out the neon strobes. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” The voice was a gravelly baritone, laced with amusement and something darker. Cole forced his eyes open to see two massive figures crowding the entrance to the booth, their silhouettes blocking the pulsating light from the club below.
Behind them the booth curtain rustled again. A new figure stood there, silhouetted by the club lights, her form sleek and armored. “Vex, Graft... Get him up to the penthouse. Now.” Her voice was cold, authoritative. Vex and Graft nodded, not arguing.
They moved in unison, their movements economical and practiced. Vex, a mountain of scarred muscle, simply hooked his hands under Cole’s armpits and hauled him upright as if he weighed nothing. Cole’s legs buckled, the tremors from his overstimulated nerves making standing a shaky proposition. Graft, lankier and with fingers that seemed too long, swiftly yanked Cole’s jeans back up over his hips, fastening the belt with a sharp, final tug.
“Walk or get dragged,” Vex grunted, his voice a low rumble close to Cole’s ear. The choice was an illusion. They propelled him forward, his bare feet stumbling on the cold floor as they marched him out of the booth, past the twins who watched with indifferent, gleaming eyes.
The pulsating music of the club felt like a physical assault as they moved through a hidden door behind a velvet curtain. The sound died abruptly as the door sealed, replaced by a sterile silence and the hum of climate control. They were in a back corridor, all concrete and exposed piping, a world away from the neon fantasy outside.
They marched him past grinding industrial elevators toward a private one lined with polished brass. The doors slid open silently, revealing an interior upholstered in deep crimson velvet. Vex shoved him inside, and the lift began to rise with a smooth, unsettling speed.
Cole leaned against the wall, his legs trembling as the residual energy from the twins’ brutal harvesting left him feeling hollowed out and raw. The numbers above the door climbed rapidly, bypassing all the public floors. It didn't stop until it reached the penthouse level, the chime a soft, expensive sound.
The doors opened onto staggering silence and opulent warmth. Thick carpets muted their footsteps, and the air smelled of sandalwood and clean linen. This was a different world from the club's pounding chaos or the sterile lab he’d left.
They guided him into a sprawling suite where a fireplace flickered with real flames. "Get cleaned up," Graft said, his voice a dry rasp as he nodded toward an open doorway. "You stink of them."
Cole stumbled into a bathroom larger than his entire bunk room at the lab. He stripped under a shower of near-scalding water, scrubbing at his skin until it felt new. Afterwards, wrapped in a robe softer than anything he’d ever felt, he collapsed onto a vast bed and fell into a dead, dreamless sleep.
He woke hours later to the soft glow of dusk filtering through floor-to-ceiling windows. The door opened and the woman from the club entered, her armored suit replaced by tailored grey trousers and a simple black sweater. She carried two glasses of water, placing one on the nightstand beside him.
"Sit up, Cole," she instructed, her voice calm and measured. She sat in a nearby armchair, crossing her legs, and studied him with an unnerving, direct focus. "Start from the beginning," she said, taking a sip of water. "How did you first discover your ability?"
He told her everything, his voice a hoarse monotone. He described the encounter with Maya, her desperation and his shock. He explained the weeks of testing, the terrifying initial incident with Lisa, the episode with Aura, the showdown with Volt. She listened, never interrupting, her eyes noting every flinch and hesitation.
"Tell me about the reservoir itself," she said, leaning forward slightly, her gaze sharpening. "Its capacity, its recharge rate, the specific biological mechanisms." Her questions were precise, probing deep into the physiology he barely understood himself.
Her genuine, curiosity was a bizarre relief after the twins' predatory hunger. "The application interests me most," she continued, her tone conversational yet intense. "The twins are use to crude ways of recharging, but imagine a targeted delivery system."
“The potential for precise cellular repair is staggering, if we can move beyond… crude extraction.”
Cole’s throat tightened, the memory of the booth a fresh brand on his mind. He looked at the water glass, its condensation beading on the crystal.
“It’s not a system,” he whispered, the words scraping out. “It’s a curse.” He told her about the first time ever with Lisa, the coma he put her in, then his first time with Maya in the sterile med-bay, her body failing and his own terrified shock. He described the terrifying, beautiful cascade of healing energy that left him drained and her reborn, a miracle that felt like a violation of every natural law.
“The healing, the charging, it’s all just… me. And I have no idea how to turn it off.”
Cole’s voice cracked as he finished, the admission hanging in the opulent silence of the penthouse.
The woman watched him, her expression unreadable, before setting her glass down with a soft click.
“A curse?” she echoed, her tone neutral. “Yet you’ve used it to save lives, from what you’ve told me.”
She leaned back, tapping a finger on the armrest. “But let’s talk about Volt.”
Cole flinched at the name, his hands curling into fists on the soft robe.
“Why do you want to know about her?” he asked, his guard rising instinctively.
“Because understanding your failures is as important as understanding your successes,” she said, her gaze piercing.
“What happened when you faced her?”
“She captured me and wanted me to charge her up?” There was a hint of amusement in her voice.
“She was draining the city’s power grid, causing blackouts,” he muttered, avoiding her eyes.
"And you sound like you take no pleasure in any of this?"
The fireplace crackled, casting dancing shadows across her face.
"Rest for now. We will speak again in the soon... and I will keep the twins' end of the bargain, you will have Lisa's location."